


Bah, humbug!

by RescueCloset



Category: Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 04:26:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2932982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RescueCloset/pseuds/RescueCloset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick finds himself spending Christmas without Ellis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bah, humbug!

**Author's Note:**

> Author: Anna
> 
> This is the first fic I write in ages (that I actually finished) so please don't punch me if it's bad.  
> Proof read by my lovely El. 
> 
> \- Anna

Nick turned off the ignition and leaned back into the driver's seat. He'd just arrived but felt the urge to start the car again and drive away. There was only one thing that stopped him; he had promised himself not to. On that chilly November morning, when he tossed the last bouquet onto the casket and walked away from everything, he'd made a promise to pull through to this one evening.  
The ragged man's hands were still clutched to the steering wheel, fighting to get out of the car and into the house further up on the drive way. Around the entrance Christmas lights had been hung, a few lanterns were lit on the front porch and the door was decorated with a pine wreath. He already hated it.

He was deep in thoughts when a tap on the window threw him back into the real world with a flinch. Nick looked up and a pair of brown eyes met his green ones. The woman outside of the car had her black braided hair in a loose knot, longer now than when he'd last seen her. Nick rolled down the window, rather than to get out himself.  
"Hi there." Rochelle smiled, but still with a hint of worry in her eyes.  
"Long time no see." the man answered, giving a weak smile in return.  
"To say the least! It must have been, what? How many months?" the woman tried to converse, much to Nick's aversion. He hated when people tried to act like everything was like normal, like it used to be, as if everything was fine. Things weren't fine, and Nick was as far from fine as he'd been in years. He was sick and tired of having to pretend like he didn't feel a damn thing.  
"Maybe two years?" he pushed the conversation forward. "You didn't show up at the funeral." The last words made Rochelle's lust for talking decrease instantly, Nick could tell.  
"I was busy, you know how it is." she tried, but felt the man's eyes glare at her - eyes that were much older, much more tired, now than when she'd last looked at him. "I would have come if everything hadn't happened so quickly..." Rochelle continued.  
"Yeah, I know. You and Coach both, I suppose." There was a chill in Nick's voice. He didn't intend to sound too accusing, nor that mean, but sometimes words found a way out of his mouth on their own.  
"That's harsh, Nick. Even for you." the lady pointed out, and Nick could only agree. "Do you want to come inside?" She gestured towards the house and the man opened the door and heaved himself out of the car with a heavy sigh.

When Rochelle knocked on the door all Nick wanted was to turn around and get back into the car. The feeling grew even bigger when a tall man with red hair opened the door, only a faint hint of a smile upon his scarred face. Nick had only met Keith once or twice before, and even then the atmosphere around them had been more than uncomfortable. The problem wasn't even that they didn't get along, they just couldn't wrap their mind around one another. They had nothing to talk about and the silences between them always ended up being awkward.  
"Hello." the redneck greeted them before moving aside to let the guests through the door. "Come in."  
Nick nodded and Rochelle smiled as she stretched out her hand towards the red head.  
"Rochelle Hampton. You must be Keith." she introduced herself.  
"Oh, where's my manners? Sorry." the man apologized, appearing almost dumbfounded by the greeting. "Yeah, name's Keith. Keith Marshall. Bet Ellis already told ya'll 'bout me? Nice meeting you in person, Ms. Hampton."  
"Please, Rochelle will do just fine. Ms. Hampton makes me sound so old." she laughed and Keith took her hand.

Nick was already in the hallway. The entire house had a scent of freshly baked cookies and scented candles. The smells made him feel as if someone had kicked him straight in the gut, but he had learned how to hide it. The gambler wanted to stretch out his hand and run his fingers along the wallpaper next to him, but he didn't give in to the urge. This was maybe the third or fourth time he'd been in Ellis' house, and not much had changed since the last time. Now Keith walked past him into the living room, if Nick hadn't known better he'd thought that the redneck's heavy steps were his own. One thing was for certain, he didn't recognize them as Keith's usual upbeat way of walking; there was no joy in his gait anymore.

When he entered the living room he saw a Christmas tree, with only a handful of presents underneath it. Coach was sitting in one of the arm chairs but got up on his feet when he saw Nick.  
"Nicolas!" he greeted him, in the very way that the conman despised. People only used his full name when they were angry with him or as attempts at taunting. It had tainted him for good and even if Coach meant good there was no way that Nick could shake that feeling.  
"How are you?" A hand was stretched out for Nick and he took it in his own, shaking it although not wholeheartedly.  
"Good." Nick's lie was short, maybe not sufficient but it was all he could muster.  
"Good to hear, ol' pal." Coach smiled.  
_Old Pal?_ Nick could feel himself being submerged in pity, and it smothered him.  
"Yeah, I guess." The smile from Nick was less than convincing, if anything it made him look even more broken.  
"Oh, is everyone here already?" a lighthearted voice behind them said. Nick turned around and saw Ellis' mother standing in the valve to the kitchen. "I thought I heard ya'll, Nick." She smiled towards him and it made the lump in the man's throat grow bigger.  
"Yep, the whole gang's here." Nick replied, knowing that was far from true. One quick glance at Keith confirmed it all. The younger man next to him tried his best to hold back tears that were clear water in the corner of his eyes.  
"Well then, dinner's all ready and Coach and Keith were nice enough to help me set the table. Why don't we get started?" the elderly woman suggested.

Nick felt like he was going on some sort of auto pilot; moving, but not in charge. He'd put the _proper_ amount of food on his plate, enough to not make people worry about him, and was now seated at the table. Rochelle joined in, sitting down to his left, and Coach in front of him. He felt cornered and trapped. Keith sat down next to Coach and Ellis' mom took a seat at the far end of the table, in between Keith and Rochelle, to Nick's big relief.  
Conversations ensued and Nick gave the people around him occasional nods and short basic answers. When they asked him what he was doing nowadays he replied with "this and that" and tried to avoid any further questions directed at him. Sure, the conman was good at empty promises, getting what he wanted through talking and the whole butter-up deal, but small talk had never been his strong suit. After an hour or so he retreated to the bathroom.

His palms rested on the sides of the sink, on which he supported himself. His hollow eyes stared back at his weary face and Nick gave out a deep, shuddering sigh.  
"Pull yourself together, Nick."  
He washed his face, for the fourth time, before wiping it off again with one of the light yellow, terry cloth towels. The man adjusted his hair again and, after one last check in the mirror, headed back to the dining room.

When he entered everyone went quiet. It was obvious to anyone that Nick had been their topic. He tried to ignore it and sat down on his chair again, starting to eat.  
"So..." Keith broke the silence, "did anyone buy any Christmas gifts?" Only silence followed the redneck's question. Nick knew that neither himself nor Rochelle and Coach had. What he didn't know was that Keith's gift to his best friend was hidden underneath his bed, had been for three months or so and would probably be there still for a very long time. Nick was also unaware that Ellis' mother had bought her son a Christmas present, but had tossed it out with the trash a few weeks back. Rochelle and Coach then shook their heads, and Nick put down his utensils on the plate.  
"Well, this was sort of going to be his present from all three of us so..." he spoke, unsure about if he wanted to go there.  
"Yeah, I know." Keith answered, looking at his own plate.

Ellis' gift from Nick, Rochelle and Coach had been planned for months. The conman didn't have much money, and he knew that the mechanic didn't really care about all that material stuff anyway. He'd explained over and over that he didn't even need a present, just for Nick to come visit his mom and Keith with him on Christmas Day would be enough. Nick knew that his boyfriend deserved better than that and so he'd called Rochelle, asking if she wanted to come down to the South one more time and celebrate Christmas with them. The same went for Coach. They'd been planning it since summer, booking flight tickets for Rochelle that they'd split the price on so that Nick could afford it. For the first time in years, maybe even his entire life, Nick had looked forward to Christmas. He wasn't too keen to spend time with Ellis' mom or Keith but he couldn't wait for Ellis' face light up from seeing Rochelle and Coach again. Nick almost told him on a few occasions but managed to keep his mouth shut. He didn't want to ruin the surprise.

It was almost time for dinner when Nick got the call. It shot right into his head, his chest, his whole world - and shattered it completely. But it wasn't like in the movies. The man didn't drop everything he was doing, ran out to his car and went rushing to the hospital. He didn't kick something over in rage or scream in agony. Neither did he blame himself nor put himself in harm's way on a bridge or with pills. What he did was something much more quiet. He said good bye to the woman on the other end of the line before hanging up. He put the phone back on the table and stared out the window. He stood there, in complete silence, while the food in the oven slowly got over cooked and then burnt. He cried, on his own, and he never told anyone about how he felt when he finally managed to get to the morgue to identify the body.  
The months after Ellis' death had been a roller coaster through hell, and he hid it all. Especially the drinking and the long walks in the middle of the sleepless nights, the loneliness and the empty void that took the place where Ellis once had been.

"Funny how things turn out, huh?" Nick almost chuckled, trying to ignore the lump in his throat.  
"It ain't fun. Not one bit." the redneck mumbled. The gambler didn't dare to look at him, he was scared they'd both recognize the pain in each other's eyes if he did. They'd spoken once over the phone, right before Nick went to the hospital. Keith had asked Nick to get over there and identify the body, the younger man couldn't do it himself. He said that the last thing he wanted was to see Ellis' crushed and bruised body. When the gambler had arrived he understood why. It's devastating how much damage a truck could do, even when you're inside a car.

Nick slowly raised his glass, awaiting the others to follow his example. When Rochelle had raised her drink and everyone had done the same the shattered man looked around the table.  
"Ellis was..." He was scared that he couldn't go on after those first two words, but he swallowed hard and felt the burning in his eyes before continuing. "Ellis was a great guy. He was kind, and funny, and selfless, and a better friend than I could have ever hoped to bumping into when everything was turning into shit." There was a nod of agreement from Coach, his eyes gave away the slight hint of reminiscence of the apocalypse, although Nick's life had been hell way before that. "He was probably the best friend any of us had the fortune to know." Nick hated to use that term; _friend_ , but he wasn't sure if everyone in the room would appreciate if he called Ellis his boyfriend. Nick was certain that the only one who knew about their relationship was Rochelle, and every time he looked at her there was pity in her eyes. He despised that too. "He was brave, one of a kind, and far too young to go." Those words made the elderly lady at the end of the table tear up. Keith was quick to put one of his scarred hands on her shoulder to offer comfort. "Here's to Ellis." Nick raised his glass quickly before putting it back to his lips and sweeping it in one gulp. Everyone mirrored him and soon it was quiet again.

Rochelle was the last one to say good bye to the gambler. She gave him a tight hug as Coach drove off in his car  
"You take care now, Nick." she requested of him. He nodded, still held by the woman, and his own hands found themselves on her back. The man wanted to cry. He wanted to hear someone say that everything would be okay, but he didn't want to hear them lie. Nick wanted to believe, but he didn't. Rochelle patted his back slowly before letting go. She didn't know what more to say to the man in front of her and so she settled for a good bye. "I'll be in town for a few days if you want to meet up some other time." she offered.  
"Thanks. But I'll be fine." he lied. _Why did he do that? Why did he always turn away from all the help people tried to give him?_  
"Are you sure?" Rochelle asked, looking just as concerned for him as she had the entire evening.  
"Yeah, I'm sure. Thanks anyway."  
"Merry Christmas, Nick."

They hugged once more, although with less intensity this time. As soon as they let go of each other Nick got back into his car, and he knew he wouldn't "do anything stupid"; not in their unspoken interpretation of the term anyway.  
He knew he would get home to his apartment, go to bed to get up the next day, do some work, get back home, eat dinner and then go back to sleep. He'd do that with less enthusiasm each day until nothing was left - until he couldn't wake up again without Ellis sleeping next to him. The conman never thought he'd be that dependent on someone, he thought of himself as a weak man for needing someone so badly, but meeting Ellis was the best thing that had ever happened to him. The bliss and ease he had felt had been too sweet and too short for him to handle. Rochelle waved him good bye as he drove out of the drive way, he gave her a quick nod before heading to the high way, wondering if he'd seen the people at the Christmas dinner for the last time.


End file.
